


A Strange Sort Of Feeling

by OneMoreNight1996



Series: Gendrya Prompts and One Shots [1]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anxiety, Arranged Marriage, F/M, Gendry being a good bean, Stark Sister Chats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 07:35:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27130012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneMoreNight1996/pseuds/OneMoreNight1996
Summary: When Gendry Baratheon comes to Winterfell with his father to fulfill a promise Arya begins to feel nervous about their wedding night.
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters
Series: Gendrya Prompts and One Shots [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1676035
Comments: 12
Kudos: 194





	A Strange Sort Of Feeling

She found herself being primped and polished by her mother and sister, who was visiting Winterfell with her husband, for the arrival of Lord Gendry Baratheon and his father. When she'd first been told that she was to marry, she'd fought and screamed before finally succumbing to the inevitability of it. She'd never wanted to marry, she just wanted to stay in Winterfell and help her brother rule after her father, but she'd known deep down that it was an unrealistic dream. All she could hope for now was that Lord Gendry was honorable and kind.

She didn't think that her father would marry her to someone who wasn't but she also knew that men could hide their true selves away from everyone and only show it when no one was around to bear witness. She, as his wife, would likely be privy to every bad impulse he had and possibly even a victim to it if he turned out to be cruel so she'd hope for the best but she'd also prepare for the worst.

"Are you excited?" Her mother asked, breaking her from her reverie.

"Excited isn't a word that I would use." She commented. "More.....nervous, I guess."

She knew that her mother had likely been expecting an outburst of anger as she'd been prone to them after finding out about the marriage alliance when anyone would bring it up but she'd come to terms with her betrothal and impending marriage already and was now just anxious about the bedding that would come after and about leaving Winterfell behind her.

"I've heard that he's quite handsome." Sansa put in as she laid a silver chain with dangling pearls on her head. It circled her head and hung down almost giving the appearance of a crown.

"Being nervous is expected." Her mother stated, ignoring her sister's words for the moment. "But I'm sure that Lord Gendry will be kind and the two of you can build your relationship together, like your father and I did."

"What if he's not?" She asked quietly. "Do you think father would break the betrothal?"

"He can't." Her mother said with pursed lips. "We can't afford another slight between the Stark and Baratheon houses, even if Robert is your father's best friend."

Arya knew what she meant. Part of the reason that her father had made the match between her and Lord Gendry in the first place was to soothe old wounds left by her Aunt Lyanna. Robert Baratheon had a dream of joining the Stark and Baratheon houses in truth since he and her father had grown up together almost like brothers and they'd attempted it years ago with Lyanna and Robert but it hadn't worked out. Lyanna had run off with Rhaegar Targaryen and he'd made her his second wife. 

The whole thing had almost sparked a rebellion but with the death of the Mad King and Rhaegar ascending to the throne, many of Robert's allies had refused his call to action and her own father had withdrawn after being allowed to speak to Lyanna herself and seeing how happy she was with her new husband. Robert had gone back to Storm's End to lick his wounds but he'd never truly forgotten nor had he truly forgiven her father for his compliance in the situation. But, when the time came, he'd approached her father for a marriage alliance in an effort to fulfill that long ago dream of his.

She knew that he'd propositioned for Sansa first. with her being the eldest daughter, but she'd already been promised to Willas Tyrell so it had fallen to Arya. It didn't hurt her feelings being second choice, in fact she wished to not be a choice at all, but the arrangement had been made and there was no getting out of it now. She knew that her mother was right, even if she hated Lord Gendry after meeting him, they couldn't break the betrothal without serious repercussions. 

"I'm sure he'll be a good match." Sansa said after a few minutes of tense silence between the three of them. "I've heard nothing but good things about him."

"Like what?" Arya asked, glancing up at the mirror to meet her eyes.

"Many say that he's honorable and stubborn, which I'm sure will cause the two of you to butt heads sometimes, and that he's quite fierce with his warhammer even when just sparring." She answered. "He's strong and steadfast, though most say he can get a bit surly at times, and he's considerate of the common people. I truly think that you'll like him if you just give him a chance." 

"Sansa's right. He's going to be your husband, it would be better to start off with an open mind and try to at least be his friend." Her mother said as she straightened the sleeves of her gown.

"I will." She assured her. She might not want this marriage but it was happening whether she objected or not and the last thing she wanted to do was disappoint her parents, which is why her gaze went back to Sansa immediately. "Anything else that I might like to know?"

"The only other thing that I've heard about him is that he has a strange hobby for a highborn lord." She said, chewing her lip. "He likes working in the forges."

Arya sat up slightly, her interest truly peaked for the first time. Not many high lords she knew would get involved in something so common. Most of them had hobbies that included hunting, falconry, or dog breeding like Sansa's husband. An interest in smithing was certainly something to note. 

"Really?" She asked.

"Yes." Sansa nodded.

"Hmm." She hummed.

She ignored the disapproving look on her mothers face as she moved from her seat to finish getting dressed, her mind wondering with thoughts of her betrothed and his unorthodox hobby, so that she was almost surprised when she found herself fully ready a short time later. She was wearing a light grey dress with wolves sewn into the hems and the cuffs of her sleeves, while the collar had blue winter roses embroidered. It was a relatively simple dress, which her mother had protested against at first, but it was something that she was at least comfortable in so she was glad that she'd managed to convince her to allow it.

The down side to this was that it meant she was forced to wear more jewelry to make up for it. Joining the headpiece she was wearing was a necklace with a wolf pendant, a silver bracelet with baby pearls on it, and a thin chain around her hips that matched the one she wore in her hair and jingled with every step she took. All in all, it was less than she expected her mother to force her into so she allowed it without complaint. She knew that her mother just wanted her to make an impression.

* * *

Hours later, it was announced that the convoy from Storm's End had been spotted sending everyone in the castle scrambling to complete last minute preparations while her mother looked her over once more to make sure that not a hair was out of place. She felt a bit like a show horse as she was lead outside to the courtyard to stand beside her mother and father as they waited for the arrival but ignored it.

Robb was on her father's other side with his wife next to him and their two year old son in her arms, while Sansa stood next to her with Willas, and finally Bran and Rickon were next to him. Other members of the household were spread out behind them and it ran through her mind that they were blocking her escape back into the castle and she had to force the thought away. 

_She wouldn't be afraid. She was Arya Stark, she was a wolf, she would not be afraid._

She kept repeating those words like a mantra in her head until finally the group they'd been waiting for came through the gates and she squared her shoulders as she took a deep breath. She would meet her future head on not cowering behind her mother's skirts.

A large man with ruddy cheeks, that she knew to be Robert Baratheon himself, dismounted the horse that was leading the group as they all stopped a few feet away and she noted a younger man dismount next to him as he approached her father. Her eyes studied the younger man as he stood patiently by his horse and she noted that he didn't carry a sword on his side but rather a warhammer strapped to his back leading her to believe that this was her betrothed.

He had a mess of dark hair that fell onto his forehead and she could tell that he was muscular even underneath the leather jerkin and cloak that he wore. He was tall, much taller than she was, and his size made him look more intimidating. He had a polite look on his face but she could still see the sullenness in his eyes. _His eyes_ , they were a deep shade of blue that stood out strongly and she was sure she'd never seen that shade before in her life. 

Sansa had been right, he was quite handsome.

It was only after her eyes had traced over him once more that she realized he clearly noticed as their eyes met. He raised a brow and her cheeks flushed immediately as she dropped her eyes to her feet.

"Gendry, come here boy." Robert turned and motioned him over. He moved from his place by his horse to come to his father's side and Robert clapped him on the shoulder and pulled him slightly in front of him. "May I present my son, Gendry Baratheon."

"Thank you for welcoming me in your home, Lord Stark." He said, inclining his head respectfully to her father.

"It's our pleasure to have you here, my lord." Her father responded before he began introducing all her siblings until finally he reached over and took her hand to gently bring her closer. "My daughter, Lady Arya Stark."

Their eyes met once more and she could swear that everyone around them went completely silent as they looked at each other. Finally, after what seemed like and eternity but was really only a few seconds, he reached out and caught her hand in his and brought it to his lips to place a gentle kiss to her knuckles.

"My lady." He greeted softly. She tilted her head slightly in acknowledgement.

"My lord." She returned.

"Should we go inside?" Her mother asked from behind her. "We have a welcome feast prepared in the great hall."

"An excellent idea, Cat." Robert said.

People around them began moving towards the castle and Gendry held out his arm for her. She took it and allowed him to escort her inside, where the warmth of the fires burning in the hearths enveloped them immediately, and when they reached the great hall they joined their parents at the high table.

The feast began quickly after that, with the food being brought to the tables and the ale flowing freely, and she noted that Gendry, unlike his father, didn't touch it and instead stuck to water. She found it a bit strange because most men she knew enjoyed a cup of ale every now and then including her father and brothers but she figured that perhaps he just didn't want to make a bad first impression.

They ate quietly, neither of them speaking even as conversation rose from the tables around them, until a few cries of surprise reached her ears and made her head jerk up in their direction. A smile quickly overtook her face as she realized just what had caused the commotion among the Baratheon men. Nymeria padded across the floor behind them, paying no mind to their surprise as she made her way over, and Arya slid her chair back slightly to turn her body toward her wolf.

"Hi, girl." She said softly, pushing her hands into her fur once she was close enough and she noted that the table had gone quiet.

She glanced over her shoulder to find both Baratheon men looking at Nymeria with wide eyes while her mother gave her a stern look. She'd been told to lock Nymeria away in the kennels for the arrival of Lord Baratheon but she'd forgotten in the midst of doing everything else. Nymeria seemed to sense the uneasiness at the table and she sat down to drop her head in Arya's lap, trying to make herself look as harmless as possible, but Arya knew that her sheer size made that difficult.

She glanced at the men once more and sighed before she reached out and grabbed Gendry's hand. The movement seemed to startle him as he jumped slightly and his eyes went even wider as he glanced at her, his had shaking frantically, but she ignored him as she brought his hand closer. Nymeria lifted her head curiously, her golden eyes seeming to study the man, before she pushed her nose into his skin to sniff at him. She felt him tense where he was now pressed against her but he didn't pull away which she added as a plus in her mental tally of him.

Nymeria sniffed him for a few seconds more before giving his hand a gentle lick and dropping her head back to her lap. Arya smiled as she released his hand from her grip and allowed him to bring it back to his side.

"This is Nymeria." She told him. "She won't hurt you."

"Seven hells Ned, you couldn't just get the girl a dog?" Robert asked from the other end of the table and Arya had to fight the urge to roll her eyes. She didn't think her mother would appreciate it.

Conversation began flowing around them again with his words and she noted that Gendry's eyes kept darting to Nymeria but he didn't seemed scared anymore. It was more like he was curious which was good. She'd thought that she'd have to leave Nymeria behind in Winterfell but maybe she wouldn't after all.

* * *

After the welcoming feast, it seemed that no one wanted to give them a moment alone together. She knew that much of it was for propriety's sake but it also meant that they hadn't managed to have a conversation that lasted more than a few minutes before it was interrupted by someone. This meant, though, that they hadn't really gotten to know anything about one another besides surface level information and it made the prospect of marrying him that much more apprehensive. She knew he was kind but other than that she knew nothing about him.

He'd come with his father from Storm's End only the week before and they hadn't had much chance to spend time with one another but now she was expected to marry him and allow him into her bed. She'd known that's what he came all the way to Winterfell for but still, it was not something that she felt herself wholly prepared for. This, of course, led her to find her sister the day she was set to get married. The marriage would take place that night in the Godswood as was tradition and she was a bundle of nerves.

She found Sansa in her chambers putting the finishing touches on the maidencloak that she'd insisted on making for her but she sat it aside as she allowed Arya into the room. She wasn't sure where Willas was and she assumed that he must be somewhere with their father or brothers but she was glad for his absence in this instance.

"What's going on?" Sansa asked gently. "I know you didn't come here just to check on your maidencloak so talk to me."

"I'm scared." She admitted, her voice soft. Sansa grabbed her hands and drew her over to sit on the bed with her.

"About what?" She asked.

"The bedding." Arya said. "Mother and Septa Mordane have told me the basics but neither of them will talk further on it."

"What exactly are you afraid about?" Sansa asked.

"That it will hurt." Arya voiced. "They say that it will."

"It does at first, I'll admit." Sansa said, brushing her hair back. "But it's really not so bad. It's just because your body needs to adjust to this new thing that it's never dealt with before but it only lasts for a short time."

"Really?" She asked.

"Really." Sansa nodded, a reassuring note in her voice. "And I'll tell you something that mother or Septa Mordane never would. After a time, it becomes quite pleasurable to lay with your husband. Especially if he is considerate of you."

"But what if he isn't?" She asked apprehensively. "What if he's a brute?"

"Do you believe that he will be?" Sansa asked. "I know you haven't spent much time with him but he seems to be a decent man to me."

"Perhaps." Arya said with a sigh. "But maybe it's just an act. Maybe he's really awful."

"I don't think so." Sansa said, shaking her head. "No one is that good of an actor but, if it turns out that he is, you can always take a few drops of sweetsleep when he wants to join you in the marriage bed."

"Sweetsleep?" She questioned. "Is that what my life is going to be like? Numbing myself so that I don't have to feel what he does to me?"

"Arya." Sansa said her name softly. "I was just giving an example for the worst case scenario but I don't truly believe that you'll need it. I think he'll be gentle with you. You have nothing to worry about, trust me. I was nervous the night of my wedding as well but it's honestly not as bad as Septa Mordane tries to make it sound. The pain isn't bad, more like a pinch, and then it's over. You just have to endure that small amount of pain in the beginning and eventually coupling is something that gives you pleasure and makes you feel closer to husband, honest."

"Just a pinch?" She asked, blowing out a breath.

"Just a pinch." Sansa repeated with a nod. "I promise. You can do this Arya, you're the strongest person I know."

"I can do this." Arya said firmly, nodding her head. 

_I am a Stark of Winterfell_. She reminded herself once more. _I can do this, I will not be afraid._

She kept that thought in her mind the whole day, repeating it over and over to herself until she believed it, and when it came time to get dressed she felt ready. As her mother and sister came into the room alongside Robb's wife, she looked at herself in the mirror and said the words once more in her mind before allowing them to begin readying her.

Her dress was white, a Stark color, with the embroidery done in black, a Baratheon color. Like the dress she'd worn to meet Gendry, this one also had wolves embroidered along it but unlike the other one it also had stags playing along the hems, a symbol of the house she'd be marrying into. The dress was much more elaborate than she was used to wearing but she supposed that made sense seeing as it was her wedding dress. 

The black embroidery circled her entire hem with a forest scene while on the cuffs of her sleeves was embroidery done in golden thread, the other Baratheon color, depicting leaves and vines in a beautiful pattern. The bodice was covered in delicate baby pearls in an elaborate pattern of swirls and it laced up the back, leaving a delicate silk bow resting at the small of her back. It was a really pretty dress but she hated how delicate it made her look, like a little doll.

After getting the dress on, her mother smudged a bit of light color on her cheeks and swiped color over her lips while Sansa lined her eyes. The makeup was subtle but it made her eyes seem so much bigger for some reason and enhanced the doll like look making her want to rub it off immediately. She resisted the urge to do so as the sun dipped below the hills and darkness fell over Winterfell, marking the start of the rest of her life. She took a deep breath once more as she shared a significant look with Sansa and repeated the words in her head again. 

She jumped slightly when a knock came on her chamber doors a few minutes later and her mother moved to open it and allow her father into the room. She noted Robb's wife slip out alongside her mother but Sansa turned to her and drew her into her arms.

"It's going to be okay." She whispered in her ear before pulling back and following the others. 

The door closed once more behind her leaving Arya and her father alone in the room. He came over to her and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"Gendry is a good man." He said gently. "I would not have agreed to this match if I felt differently. He will be good to you."

"I know." She said with a nod, not sure if she was trying to convince him or herself. He seemed to look at her for a long moment before he nodded as well and held out his arm for her.

"You look beautiful." He said as she took his arm. 

"Thank you." She replied. Her father was the only one who'd ever said that to her and she appreciated him saying it now. Somehow, it made her feel more confident as their steps brought her closer to the future that she'd fought so hard against.

When they made it outside the castle, she took note of the lanterns that were lit along the path that would take them to the heart tree and she pulled in another deep breath as her grip on her fathers arm tightened. He brought his hand over to squeeze hers lightly and he gave her a gentle smile when she glanced up to meet his eyes. Almost like magic, snow began falling around them, the gentle flakes drifting past them to the ground and she glanced up at the sky with a smile.

She'd always loved the snow, especially when it fell like this, and she had to wonder if the Old Gods were giving her a sign that everything was going to be okay. Even if it wasn't the Old Gods but rather just a late summer snow, she felt a sense of calm overtake her for the first time that day so that when they broke through the trees and into the small clearing that held the heart tree, she felt ready.

Everyone was already standing in their places, with Robert standing close to her mother and Robb, and Gendry was standing with Maester Luwin in front of the heart tree. He gave her a smile as their eyes met and she could see the nervousness held in his eyes which made her feel better about this whole thing. At least she wasn't the only one who was nervous at least.

"Who comes before the Old Gods this night?" Maester Luwin asked as they reached the tree, his voice crisp and clear as it echoed through the Godswood.

"Arya Stark, a woman grown, trueborn and noble, comes to be wed." Her father's voice rang out in answer. "Who comes to claim her?"

"Gendry of House Baratheon, son of Lord Robert Baratheon, heir to Storm's End." Gendry said, his voice wavering slightly over the words. "Who gives her?"

"Eddard of House Stark, her father." Her father answered.

"Do you take this man?" Maester Luwin asked, his eyes landing on her. She swallowed heavily before speaking.

"I take this man." She said.

"You may cloak the bride and bring her under your protection." Maester Luwin stated.

Gendry stepped forward and took her hand from her father to draw her closer before gently untying the maidencloak from her shoulders and slipping it off, handing it to her father, and replacing it with the cloak that he had draped over his arm. They looked at each other for a moment before she took his hand and drew him closer to the heart tree where they knelt together and she bowed her head to pray.

She knew that Gendry was a southern lord and thus likely followed the Faith of the Seven but he knelt next to her as she prayed and kept his grip on her hand until she finished. When they stood once more, they were met with smiles and cheers and he squeezed her hand lightly as they shared a small, shy, smile of their own.

* * *

The wedding feast was much more lavish than the welcome feast had been and the people around them quickly became rowdy as they got in their cups. After a time, the musicians in the corner began playing more upbeat songs and soon there were dancing couples in the center of the room. She noted Robert had found himself a companion, something he'd done most nights since they'd arrived, and it seemed that Gendry was doing his best to ignore his obviously drunk father. She knew that she could help him in that.

"Dance with me, my lord." She said as she stood from her chair. He looked up at her from where he was still seated and she could swear that his cheeks flushed.

"I must admit, dancing has never been something I'm particularly good at." He said and she shrugged.

"Don't worry." She said, leaning in to whisper her next words playfully. "Neither am I, but it's our wedding. It's the one time that no one can make fun of us."

"I suppose that does have some logic." He said, a smile crossing his face as he slid his hand into hers and stood to join her. 

She pulled him into the crowd just as the musicians launched into a new song and he stumbled slightly when she spun around to wrap her arms around his shoulders but he managed to catch himself and they started spinning around the floor. She knew that the steps they were doing were completely wrong but she didn't care and no one else around them seemed to mind either as most of them were too drunk to dance properly themselves.

Gendry's hands stayed firmly on her waist as if he was afraid of moving them which made their dancing seem very formal despite the lack of technique or actual steps but he was now longer scowling at his father and was instead smiling down at her so she didn't mind so much. They danced together for a few songs before making their way back to the high table to take a rest and it was then that she noted the absence of her father and brothers.

Their blatant absence made her heart start to race because she knew that if they'd left, it was only a matter of time before someone called for the bedding and everyone was so deep in their cups that they might just forget for a moment that she was their lords daughter as they divested her of her clothes. Her eyes wiped over to her mother, who gave her a reassuring smile that did nothing to calm her nerves which had suddenly come back in full force and she wanted nothing more than to just run.

"Are you alright?" Gendry asked, his breath brushing along her neck as he'd leaned in to be heard over the music and raised voices. She didn't get a chance to answer before it happened.

"I think it's about time for the bedding, don't you agree lads?" Robert Baratheon's voice rang out over the crowd gaining cheers and she sucked in a sharp breath.

She noticed Gendry turning to glare at his father moments before she was pulled from her seat and ushered away toward the hall. Men who'd known her since she was a child pulled at her clothing and made bawdy jokes as they all but carried her to her chambers and she had to force herself not to lash out and hit any of them. She'd known this was coming, it was something that every bride had to endure, but she hadn't anticipated just how much she'd hate it.

By the time she was dropped unceremoniously on her feet inside the room, she was left in only her shift and she felt exposed in a way she never had before. All of her conversation with Sansa about the wedding night fled her mind as Gendry was shoved into the room nearly bare a few moments later amidst giggles and all she could think about was the lessons she'd had growing up.

She'd been prepared for this night her whole life by Septa Mordane, had been told what to do, how to act, to be quiet and pliant, and to let her husband do what he willed. To do her duty without complaint and as she looked at Gendry, she felt frozen. The logical part of her brain knew that he was kind and that he wasn't going to hurt her but the logical part of her brain wasn't the one operating right now.

He was bigger than her, and stronger, and she knew that if he wanted he could force her to do anything he liked. She also knew that even if she cried out in pain or begged, no one would come to help because she was his wife now. He had a right to do whatever he wished with her.

Suddenly filling her head were tales she'd heard whispered where no one was supposed to hear of brutish husbands and wives that cried themselves to sleep at night and she could stop the stream of panicked thoughts running through her mind even as she tried to recall Sansa's words to reassure herself. After what felt like hours of silence between them with her thoughts running wild, he finally spoke, his voice soft and careful.

"May I kiss you?" He asked. His words stopped her thoughts in their tracks as she blinked in surprise.

"What?" She asked, not sure if he'd actually said what she thought.

"May I kiss you?" He repeated, taking a small step forward as he reached out to caress her cheek.

"Why are you asking?" She asked, confused. He was her husband, he didn't need to ask, he could just do it if he wished.

"I would have you willing, Lady Arya." He said gently. "I have no desire to force myself upon you."

She stared at him, taken aback by the words, and the panic in her mind ceased completely. Her sister had been right, she had nothing to fear from this man. She knew that if she refused him now that he would wait for her to be ready but for some reason, knowing that made her sure of her next choice.

"Yes, my lord, you may kiss me." She said.

Only moments later, she felt his lips on hers and he guided her gently as she returned it. He pulled back after a minute and her eyelids fluttered as she focused on his face.

"I do not wish to use titles here." He said, meeting her eyes seriously. "You're my wife. There's no need for such formalities when we're alone."

"Okay." She agreed quietly. "Call me by my name and I'll call you by yours."

"Arya." He spoke her name softly as his thumb stroked along her cheekbone.

"Gendry." She returned, her voice just as soft.

They smiled at each other before he captured her lips again and they stumbled toward the bed.

* * *

Sansa had been right after all. The pain hadn't been bad at all and Gendry had been sweet throughout all of it, even taking the time to make sure that she got pleasure from their coupling as well. It had been made even better when, after he reached his own peak, he'd slid down the bed and brought her over the edge with his mouth making her see stars. If this was what coupling was like, she could better understand how people ended up with bastards before they were married because she thought that she could happily spend quiet a bit of time doing just this with Gendry.

They broke their fast in their chambers rather than joining her family in the great hall and she was happy just spending time exploring her husband for a while. Eventually though, after having coupled a few more times, they found themselves just laying under the furs together as she traced shapes into his skin.

"What's it like in Storm's End?" She asked.

"Rainy." He said, laughing when she raised an eyebrow at him. "Truly though, it's not a bad place. The people are lovely and most days it's warm enough to swim in the ocean if you wish and it has a certain beauty to it."

"I've heard that you get terrible storms there." She said. He shrugged lightly.

"Sometimes." He said. "But after they end, you get to see the people come together to clean up and everyone is usually in high spirits. My favorite part is watching how excited the children get to play in the mud and puddles that are left behind."

She smiled, her mind immediately conjuring the image of small, black-haired, children running around and playing in muddy puddles and she figured that maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all. 

"It sounds lovely." She said, resting her chin on his chest.

"I think you'll like it there." He said and she could hear the note of hope in his voice. 

"I'm sure I will." She said before another thought crossed her mind. "My sister says she's heard rumors that you like working in the forges."

"That's true." He said and she heard the caution in his voice. She knew that he likely thought that she was going to judge him for it so she sat up slightly to give him a smile.

"It's an interesting hobby to have, especially for a highborn." She said. "How did you get involved with it?"

"I always liked going to the forges even when I was a small child." He shrugged. "I liked seeing how they could take a simple piece of metal and shape it into something entirely different, it fascinated me. So when I was about eight, I begged my father to let me learn how to smith. He refused at first but I just kept asking until finally, I wore him down enough to agree and I started learning from our smith."

"Are you any good at it?" She asked curiously.

"I'd like to think so." He said sheepishly. "After I learned everything that our smith could teach me, I heard about a man named Tobho Mott in King's Landing who was supposedly the best armorer in Westeros and I went to learn with him for a few years and he told me that he thought I could have been an even better smith than him if I kept training."

"That's amazing." She said, sitting up fully to look at him. 

"I don't get to do it as much as I'd like anymore." He said, rubbing the back of his neck. "But I do still practice when I can."

"Could you make me a sword?" The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them and she pressed her lips together as she waited for his reaction. 

Her mother had expressly forbade her from sparring or carrying the sword that had been given to her by her cousin Jon during the Baratheon's visit despite her protests so she knew that he had no idea she even owned one and she hoped that he wouldn't be against her having it in the first place. They hadn't had much chance to talk before now so she was unsure what his reaction would be. 

"A sword?" He asked. "Do you even know how to use one?"

She noted that he didn't sound disapproving but rather confused.

"I do." She said, chewing on her lip. "My father allowed me to train with Ser Rodrick alongside my brothers after I begged him. I'm quite good at it, I've been told."

"Why haven't I seen you with a sword?" He asked and she sighed.

"My mother forbade me to carry it." She told him. "She thought it might offend you or that you mightn't like it. I usually carry mine all the time but I haven't since you've been here."

"You have your own sword?" He asked. "Not just the sparring ones?"

"Aye." She nodded. "My cousin Jon got it for me when I was younger."

She left the bed, disregarding her lack of dress, and opened the chest at the foot of the bed to pull out Needle before returning and wrapping the furs around her once more as she handed it to him. He tested the weight in his hands as his eyes ran over it and she waited impatiently for him to say something.

"It's a bit small." He said and she raised an eyebrow.

"So was I." She commented and he laughed.

"You still are." He said, prompting her to shove him back lightly. "What I meant was, you need a bigger sword now."

"I know." She sighed, running her finger along the edge of the blade. "It's why I asked if you'd make me one but, there's something special about this blade. I know it's stupid but I still like to carry it even though I know it's too small now. Jon's always been kind to me, even when everyone else was complaining about me being wild and unladylike, and he's never made me feel bad about being different. Carrying Needle is like having him here with me even when he's all the way in King's Landing."

"I could make your new sword with this one." He said after a moment and her eyes snapped up to meet his.

"What do you mean?" She asked and he shrugged.

"It would be simple really." He said. "I could take the pommel off this one and melt it down, add a bit more metal, and make it a new sword with this one as the core so that you'll still be able to carry it with you."

"Really?" She asked, her voice hopeful.

"Aye." He nodded and a wide smile broke over her face.

"So you _are_ going to make me a sword?" She asked.

"Why would I deny you?" He asked, his own smile crossing his face. "I don't care what the rest of the stuffy, self-important, lords think of my lady wife carrying a sword. They don't like my smithing either so, so what. We can be unconventional together."

"I'd like that." She said, taking Needle from his hands to place it gently on the floor next to the bed before climbing into his lap. "Perhaps a future with you by my side isn't going to be so bad, after all."

* * *

Leaving Winterfell was a sad affair and she would miss it for sure but somehow she felt less apprehensive of the future she riding toward now. She could always visit when she found herself missing home but perhaps it was good to be leaving, after all it would give her the opportunity to grow in a new place and in ways she didn't expect herself to. Leaving home was hard but she found that she was looking forward to building a life with Gendry at her side. 

She'd been angry when she first learned of their betrothal and nervous after meeting him but now she wondered if the Gods somehow knew that they needed each other and had orchestrated the whole thing because she had the feeling that they were a perfect match for each other. It almost made her believe in the songs she'd always dismissed.


End file.
